


The Lovers

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1960s, High School, Homophobia, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Louis, Short One Shot, all of louis or harrys family are only mentioned briefly, check the bio for triggers, none of the boys are in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 10:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20006626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In the summer of 1966, two boys in the town of Saint Fair have gone missing. One determined neighbor goes to great lengths to discover the truth, but it may not be all that it appears to be.





	The Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> Triggers and Warnings: This short story is based off of the play "Lovers", which ends in the tragic deaths of both of the main characters. This will not happen in my story, though it will be strongly hinted at, until the very end. No death will occur, but many in the story will believe that the main characters committed suicide due to the homophobic nature of the town, and the fact that Louis became pregnant. It will have a some what open-ending, perhaps I will return to the story at one point to finish it. But much like the actual play, I prefer to leave the ending open to interpretation. 
> 
> I do not, nor have ever owned the rights to the play, that was written by the brilliant Brian Friel. I also do not own the rights to One Direction, and Harry and Louis are not characters of my own creation, rather they are real people who inspired me to create a story.

June 6th, 1966

“Damned kids,” Mr. Patricks chastised under his breath, gazing upon the scene with a fixed glare. His canoe - his beautifully crafted, fiberglass Old Town canoe - had been stolen. 

“Is there anything you can remember about last night, Mr. Patricks? Any noises?” The policeman questioned.

With his eyes still trained on the spot of the crime, Mr Patricks replied, “Yeah, I remember them kids that came down in the afternoon, askin’ me to borrow it - as if I would lend my brand new canoe to some hoodlum kids.”

The policeman looked at Mr. Patricks with an eager eye, “Do you remember what those kids looked like? Maybe what they were wearing?”

“Yeah, one o’ them was quite small, brown hair, maybe 5’7. Had a real loud confidence ‘bout ‘im, if you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

The policeman, now enthusiastically listening to Mr. Patricks, called over his partner, “Hey Ray! This sounds like that kid!”

Mr. Patricks looked at the policeman with a confused expression, “Which kid?”

“Oh, just some kids - the Tomlinson’s you know ‘em?”

“Jay’s kid right?”

“Yeah, well him and this Styles kid apparently went out yesterday morning and never came back, but they were last seen up on Mercury Hill.”

Mr. Patricks angry demeanor quickly changed into one of worry, “Do you think they’re okay?”

The policeman patted Mr. Patricks shoulder in an attempt at condoling the old man, “Yeah, I’m sure. These are teenagers, what could they possibly do?”

~~~

Watching the sun rise had always been one of Louis’ favorite things to do. It was a time of peace and tranquility, a time where not even the small mindedness of the people in his town paid him any mind. In fact, all he could see were the tiny ant-like shapes that milled around the buildings of Saint Fair.

Watching the sunrise was also a favorite past time because he knew that meant Harry was coming. On every Sunday, Harry and Louis would meet on Mercury Hill, under the calming shade of a pine tree that had loomed over them for the past two years.

At first, it began as any friendship does in a small town such as Saint Fair, with school. Harry and Louis had been assigned as partners for an upcoming Senior project, and decided the serene landscape of the hill would do their study time justice. Throughout the project, Louis realized that Harry was quite beautiful. And Harry realized that Louis was the prettiest boy he had ever seen.

Since then, the boys have been inseparable, favoring Mercury Hill as their common date spot, seeing as the majority of people who abided in the Catholic-run town of Saint Fair would rather die than witness two boys holding hands. 

Louis played with the band on his finger, a small and cheap metal band that was one size too big, but special nonetheless. Harry had proposed two weeks into their summer before their Senior year. Louis before then had never been a fan of marriages, finding them to be too expensive and restricting, but as soon as the band hugged his ring finger, he knew he was done for. Not long after Harry proposed however, Louis had missed his monthly. That’s when they devised their plan.

Louis heard a soft rumbling of leaves, and turned around to see a shaggy haired Harry Styles pop his head around a bush that hid the boys from view.

“Hey,” Harry whispered, his smile wide and eyes soft.

“Hi,” Louis said, getting up to greet the boy with a tight-gripped hug. “I missed you.”

Harry chuckled, “We saw each other at school, you dingus.”

“It’s not the same,” Louis said softly, his mouth kissing Harry’s cheek gently, “I don’t get to do this.”

Harry’s face burned a bright pink, turning the rest of Louis’ face towards his own, kissing his lips.

Louis relaxed his grip around the boy, instead letting his hands roam Harry’s broad chest and back, feeling the soft material of his shirt slip around his fingertips.

Harry slowly pulled away, a dazzling smile appearing along with glazed eyes and tinted cheeks, “I’ve missed you too.” He then looked down to Louis’ slightly protruding stomach and rubbed it affentionately, “You too, little one.”

Louis smiled, finally pulling fully away from the boy, and going back to his perch next to the pine tree. Harry followed him, setting down his belongings to begin their study session.

In the upcoming few weeks, exams were to begin. Logically, Louis knew that to pass his exams, he must study. But in a much more serious consideration, he wanted to do everything else but that. 

Louis sighed, “What good are exams anyway, they’re an unfair system of determining a student’s intelligence.”

Harry looked up at Louis, used to Louis’ rants about school by now, “What do you have to study for?”

“French, Maths, English Lit, the whole lot,” Louis grumbled, covering his face with his hands.

“Why not just start with the hardest, Maths, then go on from there,” Harry said simply, going back to his own studies.

Louis removed his hands from his face, and glanced over to Harry who already had a page completed. Stupid perfect Harry. “Well, you make it sound so much easier, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before,” Louis replied bitterly, picking up his textbook, flicking through it multiple times without really reading any of it.

Harry, ignoring his fiance's blatant sarcasm, smiled up at him with dimples on full display. “You’re welcome.”

“Ugh,” Louis sighed, and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence. Except the thing is, any silence to Louis is just uncomfortable. He found the quiet to be deafening. 

Harry, on the other hand, enjoyed some peace and quiet, favoring the moments of turning pages and the songs of birds. Harry had always been a remarkable student because of this, studying almost daily, never allowing the outside world infiltrate his work time. That is, until Louis came along.

Louis was a hurricane, and he knew it. Wherever he went, the storm followed. He was loud - a force to be reckoned with. Until Harry came along, and Harry became the eye of his storm.

Louis always felt bad in moments like these, where Harry was just trying to get some study time in, and Louis’ refusal to keep still made it difficult. 

“Harry?” 

Harry hummed in response.

“Do you think we’re ready to have kids?” Louis asked quietly, disregarding his books, and instead played with the band that felt so familiar on his right hand.

Harry looked up at Louis, smiling knowingly, “Of course, my love… of course.”

~~~

June 7th, 1966

“Lake Hawthorn is unusually quiet this mornin’”, Mr Patricks said, peering over the misty lake.

The policeman quirked his brow, “How so?”

“Well, there is almost always kids runnin’ ‘round, sand castles bein’ built, everythin’ that a day at the beach on a hot summer afternoon should be,” Mr. Patricks turned to the officer, “Somethin’ ain’t right.”

“Well,” the policeman began, “May just be cause o’ the mist, you know the people and their folklore ‘bout this place, wouldn’t come near it with a ten-foot-pole if it meant that they couldn’t see nothing ahead of themselves.”

Mr. Patricks shook his head, “Nah, these folk ain’t that crazy, every year - rain or snow - I’ve had people come out here. There ain’t nobody today, officer.”

The policeman regarded him with a simple nod, turning back towards the lake, when he noticed something approaching, “Hey, look!”

Mr. Patricks turned as well, facing the familiar beauty of his Old Town canoe. “Thank the lord!” He yelled, running down the dock towards the canoe.

The canoe was floating their way, but again, Mr. Patricks felt that something wasn’t quite right. The canoe bumped into the dock, lying upside down against the water. 

The policeman came up next to him, eyeing the boat with curiosity, “Well, you got your boat back, ain’t that swell.”

“Something ain’t right,” Mr. Patricks said ominously.

The officer scoffed, “You finally got your boat back, and you still don’t feel right?”

“The canoe is overturned, there ain’t been no strong enough wind, no waves to push it over. That had to be done by someone.”

“Okay, well, it was obviously the people who stole it, but that just meant it was probably some kids messing around, not much to warrant worry Mr. Patricks.”

“Why ain’t it turned back over? Where are the kids who stole it Officer?”

The officer remained silent, turning away to head back to the beach before Mr. Patricks voice yelled, “Wait!”

The officer turned back around in time to see a bundle of clothes floating by the boat, along with a waterlogged note signed with the letters, H+L.

~~~

It had been an hour of studying, and Louis was doing pretty well, if he does say so himself. He had managed to finish the entirety of his homework for maths, and could even hold a nice conversation in French without stuttering. He felt good.

Except for that nagging feeling. He always got like this when the silence became too much and Harry hadn’t said anything for too long. He began to think about their future, how much of it terrified him. How much of it made him thrilled.

He would think of the lovely house they would have down in San Francisco. San Francisco, with the beautiful beaches and thrilling adventures. He could imagine a future there, a future with Harry. A future that allowed them to become one, a future with their child…

But then, he wonders, what will happen to mum? Sweet, gentle mum? His mum had been so accepting of Harry, not knowing the exact nature of their relationship, but being aware anyway. And what about Lottie, or Daisy? What about them?

“I can see you’re in your head again,” Harry said quietly, the first words he had spoken in awhile. 

Louis looked at him, tears forming in his eyes. “Harry,” he croaked, “Did we make the right decision?”

“Oh love,” Harry condoled, taking the boy in his arms and placing him across his lap, “What has got you so down? I thought you wanted to go to San Francisco?”

Louis nodded, “I do, I promise I do, it’s just - just, I thought about mum and Lottie, and - what are they gonna do, Haz? They don’t have the money to fly out and see us, they haven’t been saving up like us.”

Harry pet his back and kissed his temple, “Baby honey, you know your mother would do absolutely anything to come to San Francisco and see you, but she would also understand why we’re going… We can’t stay here if we ever want to love freely.”

“Yeah, I know… It’s just hard.”

Harry sighed, “I know, it was hard enough to say goodbye this morning to mum. Can’t even imagine what it’ll be like in three weeks.”

Louis nodded with a forlorn expression, gazing across the town, “Is it ours yet Haz? The house?”

“Yeah Lou, it’s all ours.” Louis was openly crying now, but Harry knew it was because he was just so happy.

~~~

June 8th, 1966

The police station was oddly silent, except for the faint cry of two mothers and the pitter-patter of rain that hit the window. 

“Mr. Patricks,” a familiar voice called, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder.

Mr. Patricks turned around and made eye contact with the policeman - Ray, whose expression lacked in emotion.

“Yes?” His voice shook as he spoke.

Ray cleared his throat, “We might have a motive.”

“A motive?” Mr. Patricks asked. What motive? He thought, What about those missing boys?

“Yes, a motive,” the officer looked around, and noticed the crying mothers in the corner, “Why don’t we move to somewhere more… private.”

“Yes, I suppose we should.”

Mr. Patricks was escorted to a small room with a large mirror encasing the entirety of a wall, and a metal table that was surrounded by two chairs. It was a typical interrogation room, one he had seen many times while watching Burke’s Law.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Nah,” Ray said, “Just looking for a quiet place to talk.”

Mr. Patricks nodded in understanding, eyeing the policeman as he pulled out a yellow file labeled REPORT.

“The letter, the one left on the boat? That was signed with two letters, H and L,” Ray began. “We have enough evidence to believe that this is linked with the missing case of Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles.”

“Yeah, that’s quite a big leap you made there, sir.”

“Hey, don’t get snarky with me, old man. I’m giving you information.” Mr. Patricks nodded and let the man continue.

“Anyway, the note was much to waterlogged to make out any words except for a few phrases, like: ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘the future’,” Ray took a pause before continuing, “We believe that… That this could be a suicide note.”

Mr. Patricks let out a gasp. Things like this didn’t happen in places like Saint Fair often, and when they did, they were a big deal.

“What makes you say that officer?”

Ray pulled out a photo, one that showed close-up images of the bundle of clothes found near the canoe. One of the garments was a loose striped polo shirt and the other was a ripped Beatles band tee, obviously fitted for a narrow frame. 

Mr. Patricks recognized them immediately.

“These were the clothes that Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson were last seen wearing,” Ray said. Mr. Patricks nodded in recognition. A shiver ran down his back as he remembered the sad, desperate look the Tomlinson kid had on his face as he asked to borrow his canoe. 

“I remember,” Mr. Patricks croaked. 

“We have a search team out for them still,” Ray explained, but a hint of sadness overtook his stoic expression, “But there’s no guarantee that they’ll be alive.”

~~~

On their next study session, Louis began to feel unsettled. Two weeks. Two weeks until they leave for San Francisco and he felt like he could jump out of his skin or into the lake. Both were viable options. 

Louis pet his ever-growing stomach, pacing around on the grass as he waited for Harry to arrive. No matter what, Harry always managed to be 15 minutes late to their sessions. Louis knew it was because Harry often got distracted by the wild flowers on the way to the hill, and had offered on numerous occasions to change the time, but Harry always insisted that he would make it. He never did. Usually, Louis would find this endearing. But today, he couldn't help but feel worried. What if he got kidnapped?, Louis wondered, What if he left me for that cute German exchange student? What if he already left for San Francisco with him? What if -

“Hey baby,” Harry greeted, hugging Louis from behind. Louis breathed a sigh of relief and only hummed in response, sinking into Harry’s arms. “How were my two favorite people today?”

Louis grimaced as he remembered the day, “Mrs. McGregor yelled at me today.” Louis could feel Harry stiffen behind him. Louis huffed, “I suppose it was my fault, I know how much she hates talking during class, but I just couldn’t help it. Eve was doing most of the talking anyway, I don’t know why she was singling me out.”

Harry turned Louis around to face him and hugged him tightly, knowing Louis just wanted some physical comfort instead of talking about what he was feeling. He would do that soon enough on his own. 

“And the baby?” Harry asked after a moment of silence. 

Louis smiled, “I felt it kick.”

Harry took in a shaky breath and placed his hands on Louis’ belly, “You’re doing so well little one, you’re daddy and papa are so proud of you.”

The couple stood there for another five minutes before they settled down with their homework. Louis, of course, preferred to gaze up at the sky. Why bother doing the work if they were going to be leaving in a few weeks anyway?

Louis didn’t voice those thoughts aloud, however. He knew Harry would just come up with some brilliant response about how people would start to get a clue that something was going on with the two of them if they all of a sudden dropped from their high scores. 

“Do you think we’ll get a dog?” Louis asked. 

“I don’t suppose why not,” Harry said, not even looking up from his schoolwork. Louis often voiced his thoughts like this, not expecting a very coherent response from Harry, just an affirmation that he heard him.

“Maybe a small kitten would do. A kitten that would be small enough to fit in the palms of our hands.” Louis knew that it would be incredibly hard to balance both a baby and an attention-seeking kitten at the same time, but he didn’t care. He was idealistic. “Can we get a terrace? One with yellow flowers hanging off the edge? Maybe plant some sunflowers, like the ones in Hyde’s garden so we won’t get too homesick.”

“Of course.”

“And the nursery could be a nice green or light pink. I’ve always wanted a pink room, and we could have a white cradle with toys all around - can’t you just imagine it Harry?”

At that, Harry looked at Louis and smiled gently, “I already have.”

Louis sighed happily and laid his head across Harry’s lap, deciding a nap would be a better use for his time.

~~~

June 8th, 1966

As soon as Mr. Patricks left the station, he hurried out to the lake with his canoe. Tomlinson’s face left guilt on Mr. Patricks conscience, and he couldn’t help but hope that those kids were alive. He knew it was a hopeless cause to follow, but bodies had yet to be found. 

Mr. Patricks began to row across the misty lake, which still remained void of any sign of life, most people now aware of what has occurred. The lake appeared vast, the fog covering any sign of the water’s edge. 

It was foggy the day Tomlinson had come by. But people were still out, playing in the water. Mr. Patricks knew that an inexperienced rower, like the boy obviously was, would get lost in the density. He remembered telling the boy to ask someone who was dumb enough to let Tomlinson use their canoe on that type of day. Tomlinson looked hurt but determined. Mr. Patricks wished he had recognized that look earlier, maybe all of this would’ve been avoided.

Mr. Patricks shook his head and kept on rowing. He seemed to have been going at it for hours before he found something floating in the water. Mr. Patricks plucked it out of the water, and saw that it was a brown leather notebook with the initials H.S. inscribed on the front. He opened it up and saw waterlogged writing all down the pages. 

With this clue, Mr. Patricks felt a sense of invigoration and began to row further into the lake. Another five minutes went by before he hit the edge of the South Dock. He quickly parked himself and walked down the wooden planks when he noticed something peculiar. Mr. Patricks slowly approached the edge of the lake, where dirt met water and created the wet brown substance of mud. A slight gasp escaped his mouth. In the mud were two sets of footprints, one slightly smaller than the other. 

~~~

One week. One week until everything begins and everything ends. It was an odd and out-of-place feeling for Louis. He had never been so sure of anything in his life, yet be so lost in it. 

Harry had thought of everything, they would leave at dawn, when it was extremely misty to the point that it covered the lake in its entirety. They would ask the old man who lived by the North Dock to borrow his canoe for the evening, to which he would hopefully say yes. They would pack their important belongings, the money they’ve saved up, and would write a note to their families detailing where they were going and why.

It was a flawless plan, one they had discussed over and over, but Louis was stuck. He held Harry’s notebook in hand, determined to write the letter without tearing up. He didn’t succeed. 

Harry sat behind him, his legs caging Louis in as he massaged his back, trying to calm the poor boy down. They had been silent for an hour now, and Harry knew how much this letter affected Louis. He was never quiet for more than ten minutes. 

With each letter he wrote, Louis’ anxiousness grew. How do you write a letter to your mother, explaining that you are running away with your boyfriend who had gotten you pregnant? It wasn’t exactly an easy feat. 

It took another hour of silence for Louis to finish. And another hour for him to stop crying. 

~~~

June 9th, 1966

Mr. Patricks was back at the police station, a place he had grown to dislike intensely. Ray was seated across from him, his hands folded in front of him and his eyebrows turned down in confusion. 

“I found it floating in the lake,” Mr. Patricks explained, pointing to the now dried leather notebook. “It’s obviously Styles. I can barely make out most of what it says. The most I’ve been able to deduce is that Louis’ name is repeated often,” he paused. “And…”

“And?” Ray asked, frustration evident on his face. 

Mr. Patricks took a deep breath, “And something about a baby.”

Ray pinched his nose, “Jesus Christ.”

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Mr Patricks asked hesitantly.

Ray shrugged, “There’s no way to know unless we have more evidence. But, I can safely say that we might have a motive for them commiting suicide.”

Mr Patricks shook his head, “May have committed suicide. We have no bodies. The most we can infer is that they’ve run away.”

“Look Patricks,” Ray started, “I know you mean well, or you feel guilty for God-knows-what, but leave this to the professionals, okay?”

“No, I know you’re wrong -”

“No, you don’t,” Ray said, his tone harsh. He looked up at the old man and regretted what he said instantly. Sighing, Ray got up and began to pace around the room, “Listen, I’ve seen these kinds of cases before, where kids will read some stupid romance and get these stupid thoughts in their heads where they will be together forever - death do us part, or some shit like that. And then boom, they go missing, their bodies turns up six days later with a suicide note saying how they’re just like Romeo and fucking Juliet.”

Mr. Patricks slumped over himself and breathed heavily before saying, “I found footprints.” Ray turned to look at the old man, his eyes wide. Mr. Patricks nodded, “It was when I found the notebook. I was so excited to have found something to clue me into what the hell has been going on. When I parked in the South Dock, I found two sets of footprints in the mud. They couldn’t have been old, they were still relatively wet.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“I just,” Mr Patricks began, “What if they left for a reason? What if someone’s after them? Especially considering their… situation.”

Ray huffed and sat back down in the seat opposite Mr. Patricks, “If someone is after them, then it’s best we get to them first.”

~~~

Louis had never felt so humiliated in his life. Tears welled in his eyes as he stared at the dusk sky, waiting for Harry to come. Who knows if he even would show. The last he saw, Harry’s mother was pleading with the headmaster to let him stay in school.

“How will he ever provide for his family?” she had begged. 

It was no use, the headmaster had made his decision, “He should have thought of that before he started one.”

Louis knew it would only be a matter of time before someone noticed his sudden weight gain. As Louis had been told by the headmaster, his geography teacher, Mrs. McGregor voiced her concerns of Louis’ grades and how he had suspiciously begun to attend her morning classes late, looking ill. The headmaster connected the pieces. 

“We knew he had been out with the Styles boy too often,” the headmaster had told his mother. “But now we really know what’s been going on. And this will not continue in my school.”

Louis was expelled and his life was seemingly over, at least that’s what all his friends had said. They all were sad to see him depart so early, before they could graduate together. But Louis had been prepared to say goodbye to them for weeks. He knew that when he and Harry went to San Francisco, there was no turning back. 

Louis heard the familiar ruffling of the leaves behind him. He didn’t even bother to turn before he said, “We’re going to have to leave early, aren’t we?”

Harry sighed and sat next to Louis, who leaned his head against his shoulder. “I suppose this was as good of a sign as any.”

“Did they expel you too?”

Harry shook his head, “Nah, mom made the argument of ‘stupid teenager brains’ and he only gave me a suspension.”

“Figures.”

“Yeah.”

The two sat in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly relaxed either. The tenseness from what they were about to do lay heavily on their shoulders.

“This is the only way,” Louis whispered. “This is the only way we’ll just be.”

~~~

June 10th , 1966

“Tomlinson,” Headmaster Warwick said, his hand rested on his chin as though in consideration, before saying, “Yes, I remember him. Not to mention his name has been in all the papers lately.”

“Then you’ll remember that you recently expelled him and suspended his partner, Harry Styles, for, quote: ‘indecent and shameful acts that violate the school code and the code of God’. Do you remember that, Mr. Warwick?”

Headmaster Warwick shrugged, “I did what had to be done.”

Ray’s face remained impassive but his insides coiled with disgust, “Then you’ll remember as well that both Tomlinson and Styles went missing the day after?”

The headmaster hummed.

“Then, headmaster, it strikes me as suspicious that those two boys, after you spread the news of their sexuality around town, that they went missing? And that you appear indifferent to the situation?”

“I am not partial to the unfortunate occurrence, though if I were, I wouldn’t be shy about it, officer.”

“And why’s that?”

“They deserved what they got.”

~~~

Dawn had broke, and Mr. Patricks had refused to let them borrow his canoe. Louis felt dread creep into his veins as he quickly stowed his belongings in the canoe anyway. Louis knew it was wrong, stealing a canoe from an old man who wouldn’t really know the wiser, but he just kept repeating to himself: “This is the only way.”

Harry tiptoed down the dock, holding up a faintly lit lantern to try and spot Louis in the dense fog. “I brought my notebook,” he said as soon as he spotted Louis crouched down in the small canoe, shaking slightly as the cold mist circled around them. “We can write to our mothers to tell them where we are going, why this has to be done.”

Louis nodded and helped Harry climb inside, Lord knows how clumsy the boy can be. Louis laughed to himself as he saw Harry clamber to the opposite side of the canoe, catching himself against the railing before he fell into the cold waters below them.

Once both he and Harry sat down, the tension was brought back, and Louis felt like he could throw up. Harry looked pale as well, but grabbed the ores and began to draw them towards him and back out in a circular motion. Before they could move that far, Louis gripped one of the ores in Harry’s hands and made them still.

Harry raised his brow in confusion, but saw that Louis had a terrified look on his face. “We can go back, Lou,” Harry said softly, letting go of the ores and grabbing Louis’ hands in his own, “At any moment, any moment at all, even if we have been living in San Francisco for eleven years with 6 kids and three dogs, if you decided at that moment that you wanted to go back, I would pick up these ores and do it.”

Louis stared at Harry in a mixture of adoration and awe. He was the most wonderful person in the world. He was his fiance, the father of his child, and Louis was going to love him forever. 

Louis let go of Harry’s hands and set them back around the ores, a determined expression on his face. Harry grinned widely, his dimples caving in before he leaned in to kiss Louis deeply. Louis hummed in appreciation and threaded his fingers through Harry’s tangled brown curls. 

Harry pulled back slightly and kissed his lips chastely before he pulled away from Louis altogether, resuming his rowing. Louis felt content.

Thirty minutes flew by, and they were still on the lake. The sun had risen fully now, but the clouds and the fog still hid them from any peering eyes. Harry had taken a break, his arms sore from the constant pull of the water. Louis had offered to take over, but Harry insisted that he was fine and that Louis shouldn’t strain himself or the baby. Louis just rolled his eyes and let Harry row into exhaustion.

They had been sitting for a few minutes before they crashed into a large boulder. They both hadn’t seen it coming, the grey matter of the rock mixing in with the grey air. The canoe had hit it dead on, the front tipping over the top of it, sending both of the boys and their belongings out onto the cold water. 

Both boys felt as though they were drowning, the surprise of the turnover making them breath in buckets of water. Louis could barely see above the water, and almost screamed when he felt a tug on his arm if it weren’t for the fact that he saw Harry’s tattoo littered arm appear in his view.

“Oops,” Harry giggled. And soon, both boys were laughing hysterically, both at the embarrassing crash and the fact that much of their memorabilia was sunken at the bottom of the lake. 

Fortunately, Harry kept his wallet in his pocket, which contained all the necessary credentials for him and Harry to fly to San Francisco - their new home. 

They both attempted to overturn the canoe, but quickly learned that strength is obsolete in the water without anything to stand on. With one last longing look at the bottom of the lake, the two boys swam to the South Dock shore.

“Where do we go from here?” Louis questioned, looking around at the muddy beach surrounding them.

Harry pointed at a small hill in front of them, “Behind that hill is a railway yard, we’re going to hitch a ride on the one headed East, that’ll take us to Livingstone Square, there’s an airport there.”

“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?” Louis asked quietly.

Harry shrugged, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Louis smiled, tears forming in his eyes, and he dug himself under Harry’s arms, breathing in his scent. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

~~~

June 11th, 1966

MISSING BOYS CASE: UPDATE

By: Sarah Clifford 

As of today, the police of Saint Fair have ruled out a possible homicide for the case of Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles, the two missing teenagers who went missing on June 4th, a day after they were dismissed out of school for charges of indecency. The two have been said to not only be in a secret relationship, but may have hidden a pregnancy. Police reports say that there has been no evidence of fowl play, despite the motive to do so, but other causes are still being discussed. Officer Ray Johnson states: ‘We have found some links to a possible suicide, maybe a kidnapping. But, we cannot confidently say the exact cause for the boys disappearance.’ The officer then continues to say that they are not ending the investigation, rather, they will wait to see if either of the boys try to communicate with their family, or if further evidence shows up. Many are unconvinced, and many have put in anonymous tips that have led the police to twists and turns in the investigation. If you have any reliable information regarding the whereabouts of Louis Tomlinson or Harry Styles, please contact the police immediately, or send an anonymous tip through the number below. But for now, as stated by the Saint Fair Police Department, this case will remain unsolved.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the first story I have written here. It took me awhile to finish, mostly because I have never written a story at great lengths before. I truly hoped you enjoyed it !!
> 
> P.S. Sorry for changing Mr. Patricks speech patterns. At first he had a hick-like voice in my head, but he changed in tone over time.


End file.
